I took a stance, and with a slow, deep breath...I felt my entire body
relax. My limbs became loose, but ready. My mind cleared itself
entirely, and I found my center deep in the pit of my stomach. It was
like having everything balance out perfectly in a single instant. Kid or
no kid, he's NOT gonna make an 'easy win' out of me!

With a boyish smile...he attacked again!

I watched his short blond mop fly up and swing around as his slim frame
spun low to kick my legs out from under me, but my legs moved all by
themselves, jumping backwards and leaving him swinging in mid air. I
think it caught him by surprise, but it wasn't long before he was back
to work, trying to get in another shot. His legs began moving in a
violent whirlwind, testing every possible opening that I had on my body,
and as I felt my mimic ability kick in, it became easier and easier to
almost block every strike. I can't explain it, but it was like my body
was learning. The harder he fought, the more it absorbed every
move, adopting his moves into it's own repetoire and blocking it at the
same time. This time, it was different. I could literally FEEL my mind
and body becoming 'full', almost engorged, on the skill that he was
using on me. He picked up the pace, balancing on one leg while his other
one was wildly flailing in my direction. He aimed a few shots at my
head, some at my stomach, some at my legs, then he would alternate
between all of them at once! But my body captured every movement, and
gained more momentum as he swung mercilessly at me.

For the first minute or so, I was able to block almost every kick, only
getting tagged by one or two here or there. Lucky shots, mostly. Then, I
could block ALL of his attacks. Then, I could simply dodge half
of them with ease and block the rest as he tired himself out. But I soon
began to feel a strange power build up in my arms, and my fists clenched
up on their own. It seems that my body has learned what it needs to know
now...and it's ready to strike back! As the boy lunged towards me, I
felt my arm reach out, closed fist, and connect with a thud to the kid's
chest, knocking him back a full five feet! It surprised the hell out of
me, and I looked down at my fist in amazement as it held it's
outstretched pose for everyone to see! The kid was holding his chest in
pain, and struggled to get to his feet. He WASN'T happy!

The whole crowd had gotten dead silent for a moment, trying to somehow
figure out what the hell had just happened. Much like I was. Then, as I
looked out and saw Dion and Gyro standing among them, EVERYONE
jumped up and shouted louder than anything I've ever heard before
in my life!!! Cheering...for ME! I looked out and Gyro was
practically turning backflips in the bleachers, screaming at the top of
his lungs and grinning from ear to ear. Wow...I can DO this! I can
REALLY DO this! Just then, I felt a kick land square in the
middle of my back, and the kid actually stepped up on one of my knees to
jump kick me in the face! I flew back, landing on my ass, and sprung
back to my feet just in time for him to catch me with a roundhouse kick
to my jaw! The room began to spin as I fell back to the canvas again.
Dammit! Gotta stay focused! I flipped back up to my feet, but he was
pressing me much harder now, not wanting to give me a chance to breathe.
He was good, DAMN good...but as I kept up with him physically, his
emotions became clear to me. He was anxious, stiff, desperate. I could
feel it...he was losing and he didn't know how to handle it. His
thoughts swirled up in a huge jumble and he was trying so hard to think
of a way to take me out of the match quickly before he ran out of ideas,
that he wasn't thinking clearly. I could feel his exhaustion, the
numbness of his muscles as he pushed harder and harder to get the
advantage. His confidence was dwindling fast, and his speed was lacking
now that his body had used up all of it's energy. There was no doubt
about it...this kid was going down.

I caught him by the ankle as he kicked at me, and spun him to the floor.
He jumped up, only to have me catch it again, same leg, and toss him up
against the glass at the edge of the ring. Huffing and puffing, he got
up slowly, and swung at me with everything he had. It was at that moment
that I felt my leg swing around, spinning me with it fast enough to
almost snap my own neck, and connect a harsh kick directly to his
midsection, just below his ribs. Sparrow flew backwards and ended up
landing on his face almost ten feet from where he was standing a second
ago. The people went absolutely WILD! It was then that I walked over to
my opponent, made sure he was looking me in the eye, and said, "I'm
gonna knock you out now, and take the winnings home wih me, ok? Just
letting you know."

I could feel the anger blaze through him at that moment, and it's
exactly what I wanted. He quickly pushed me off of him, ran towards me
as fast as he could....and with a simple motion and a flick of the
wrist, I boosted him up over my shoulders and sent him flying back down
to the ground. He stood up, but my body was already in motion. I
delivered a combination of punches and kicks that struck him at every
unguarded part of his body. His arms were to slow to block, his feet to
slow to move back...and with a sequence of hard hitting blows...I sent
the little brat spinning to the mat! Once he had felt the impact, he was
too tired, too sore, to go on. Sparrow raised his hand to the ref...and
forfeited the match. "And the winner is....'RENEGADE'!!!" The announcer
shouted, and I was swallowed whole by a loud sonic boom of cheers from
all around me! The walls themselves seemed to be rattling from the
noise! I won! I WON!!!!

I stepped out of the ring, 'dazed' at what I had just pulled off, and
saw Dion and Gyro crashing towards me at the speed of light to
greet me! Gyro was practically jumping over people's shoulders to reach
me, and he leaped up into my arms shouting in my ear! "DUDE...that was
fucking SOLAR, man!!!"

"Damn boy! I think we've got ourselves a champion here!" Dion
shouted, both excited and extremely relieved that it turned out so well.
Gyro was still holding on tight to my neck and jumping up and down,
letting that pure and carefree 13 year old come bursting out of him
unrestricted. I was still shaking inside, not sure whether to believe
that any of this was really happening or not! I looked up into the
audience and saw a lot of people giving me nods and applause, some of
the gamblers were frantically talking to their assistants and number
runners...pointing me out and gahering some info to remember me for the
next fight. Instant celebrity, from zero to sixty, in just ONE fight!

"Omigod...I can't believe I just did that!" I screamed.

"YOU DID! YOU DID! YOU WERE AWESOME!!!" Gyro and I looked over as
they helped Sparrow out of the ring.

"Shit...I hope he's alright. I was trying to go kinda easy..."

"Fuck him! I've seen Sparrow fight plenty of times, he's an asshole!"

"So what? He's like eleven years old for goodness sakes! It's not
exactly something I plan to add to my 'I'm so proud' memory box." I
said.

"Eleven years old? What, are you kidding me? He's like 30-something! He
crossed over back in like 1971!" Gyro assured me. "Don't trust your
eyes, man. Not ever. Not in THIS world. You cleaned his clock pretty
good!"

"So what's the cash pot look like?" Dion was searching the board for the
right number.

"Well, you see that over there are the odds for Justin and the odds
against him. Then you've got the amount of gamblers that betted on
Sparrow..." He broke down the whole confusing scoreboard for us, and
then told us, "So Justin's pot is right there at the bottom. That's what
he's made so far."

"Eighty Five dollars? I made eighty five dollars in less than ten
minutes?" I asked.

"Damn RIGHT you did, 'Renegade'!" Gyro said, still bouncing
around with endless excitement. "We're already more than half way there
dude! Sixty five more bucks and we break even! Maybe we can even go
OVER!"

"You think I can make that in the next fight?" I asked, now feeling my
confidence getting pumped up in the center of my chest!

"NEXT fight?" Dion said, "Justin, we're already out of the hole.
Tomorrow night we can send Kid and Dylan out to pickpocket the rest.
It's a misdemeanor at best, and Kid is so adorable when he frowns up,
that if anybody catches him lifting their wallet they'll end up buying
him a free dinner someplace and driving him home. You don't have to keep
fighting."

"Dion, DUDE, c'mon! Were you watching the same fight I was? This kid has
got skills like you wouldn't believe! We can make a fucking
fortune here tonight if you let him keep going!" Gyro couldn't
keep from hugging me. "Can't you see it??? He's, like, unbeatable!"

"He's right, Dion. Once everything clicked for me, it was easy. Hardly a
bruise on me. We can make the whole payback in just one night and I can
come back with enough money for everybody at the lot." I said.

"And just what are you going to tell them when they ask where you got it
from?"

"I'll...say..." I started, but got interrupted.

"Hey kid! If you're gonna keep rockin', we need you to give us the nod."
Said one of the refs on the side, calling me back to the ring.

I gave Dion a wanting look, and it didn't look like it was doing any
good. "Dion.....just...one or two more fights. That's IT! I just...I
wanna pay my way. After all you guys did for me, the least I could do is
pay for the blood it took to get me fixed up." Hopefully, that'll get
some kind of positive reaction from him.

It was then that I saw Dion close his eyes in frustration, and whisper,
"Goddammit, Justin!" BINGO!

"THANKS DION! I'll be fine, you'll see!"

"Yeah! You'll see!" Gyro repeated, rubbing my shoulders and walking me
back over to sign up for another match. We waded through some more
people, and I noticed a lot of them were looking at me, watching me with
different eyes. There was so much going on around me at once, that my
mind reading ability turned itself on automatically through the
excitement. I involuntarily began sifting through everyone in the room.
The crowd, to me, got even LOUDER....with people talking outloud with
one voice, and in their heads with ten or twenty other voices...EACH! It
wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, absorbing all these thoughts at
once. Although it did make it kinda hard to concentrate. They were
'studying' me, analyzing me from head to toe. To see if one of my
bruises was ailing me more than it should. If I walked with a limp, if I
was right or left handed, if any bones had been broken in the last
fight...I was being scanned something awful. Like a racehorse before
entering the gate. Anything to give them an advanced warning on how to
bet on the next battle. It was a weird feeling, being the chicken in a
cockfight.

Gyro set me up for another round, and he started telling me what was
going on. "Ok, the good thing is...you won. And that's awesome.
But the thing is...it looked too easy for you. I mean, everybody was
watching you kick the snot out of Sparrow, and believe me when I say
that he's no wimp. But play around a little bit more next time. Don't
let them know how good you are so fast. You've gotta...you know...put on
a 'show' for the crowd."

"A show?"

"Yeah. Don't make yourself look like such an easy bet. Give 'em a little
bit of doubt, keep 'em guessing. That way you still got some
people wagering against you, which in turn will get people to wager FOR
you to beat the odds, and in the scheme of things it's eventually going
to get you more money per win. That's kinda how things work down here.
It's all a system."

"Soooo....you want me to tone it down. Is that what you're saying?" I
said, looking at him sideways.

"Either that, or you fight another TWENTY matches instead of 4 or
5...and I don't think you're gonna be able to stretch Dion's
sensibilities much further than you already have tonight."

He had a point. "I'll do what I can."

Just then, I felt a presence behind me, almost cold as it
approached. I turned around and saw a getleman in a suit...maybe about
25 years old I guess...but young looking for his age. "Renegade, is it?"
He said, and he extended a hand to me.

I'm not sure why my hand was so reluctant to shake his, but I did it
anyway. "Yeah, that's me."

The cold increased inside of me as he gave me a firm handshake. "My name
is Soren. I am one of the major promoters of this arena. I must say that
I am extremely impressed with your debut here. If I may ask, where did
you learn to fight like that?"

My mind went blank for a moment, and I told him, "I started when I was
young. Next door neighbor taught me." Something told me that he knew I
wasn't being honest, but I wasn't about to tell him the truth.

"I see." He said with a grin. "Well, I will definitely be watching your
progress here in the future, young 'Renegade'." And he then walked away
to join some of his colleagues in one of the overhead balconies.

"You're a popular man tonight, Justin! Even the big wigs are sniffing
around you now! I KNEW you'd be kick ass in this place!" Gyro threw an
arm over my shoulder as he said, "Man...if you can do this well in HERE,
imagine what you could do in the fighting rings in the IceZone, dude!
You can win BIG money in that place! I'm talking enough to set us all up
in like a...HOUSE or something!"

"Hehehe, why don't we work on getting the 150 dollars first, huh?" Gyro
laughed with me as he led me back to the ring side, but I think he was
actually being serious. There is a wild imagination on this boy.

"Next match...'Renegade' versus 'Thunder'!!!" Came the announcement, and
I was right back in the ring for another round. But this wasn't an 11
year old boy this time. Not by a LONG shot! This guy was huge! He was
bigger than my DAD, for Christ sake! With a goat tee and a chest that
was as wide as the span of my shoulders. My mouth dropped, and I quickly
turned my head down to the floor, hoping he didn't see the disbelief in
my eyes. Okaaaaay....this isn't the same game that I was playig a minute
ago.

Then...it came to me. Not so much like a sound or a warning...more like
a gentle mental tap on the shoulder. A sensation that caused me to look
back up into that balcony again, and I saw this 'Soren' character
smiling back down at me. He was drinking a glass of champagne and nodded
slghtly as though to toast me. I think the son of a bitch set me up for
this! Just to see how badly I'd get beat up this time! Looking up at the
betting wagers on the scoreboard, I noticed that I had a few more
people on my side this time, but not many. Not that I blame them....this
guy looked like he could tear me apart without much effort at all. I
wanted time to standstill for a while, to not hear the ring of that
bell, to get just a few more seconds to breathe. But time didn't stop.
It didn't even slow down. And when I heard the signal...I saw this large
hulk of a vampire come charging at me full speed!

Feeling my body contort and twist the way it needed to, I was luckily
able to spin out of the way. He stopped his charge, and turned to start
swinging those giant fists at me. The knuckles looked as though they
were attached to frozen turkeys as they breezed violently past my face.
Please oh PLEASE don't let one of those punches connect! They look like
they would hurt an awful lot! My leg shot out to the side, and I cringed
as my foot struck him dead in the chest, pushing him backwards, but not
off his feet. I could have sworn that my ankle nearly broke, just coming
into contact with the slab of concrete that was his chest. I hobbled for
a quick second, and he took the opportunity to grab me by the neck and
lift me off of the ground. The tight grip of his fingers cut off 90
percent of my air supply, and he looked me dead in the eye before
slamming me down hard at his feet! I rolled over to get some
distance between us, and felt my leg twist and spin around to sweep him
to the canvas...but wasn't successful. My leg connected with his, but
instead of being knocked off balance...his leg stood perfectly still,
taking the hit and doing more damage to ME than it did to him. It was
like kicking a deeply rooted oak tree. Ok, this wasn't turning out to be
such a good idea. I'm starting to wish I had taken Dion's advice and
left with what little money I had.

The man grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling me up to my feet. My fists
became a blur, striking repeatedly at his stomach, his sides, his chest,
his head...but none of it did any good. NOTHING was penetrating that
muscled block of physical matter! He barely felt a tickle as he laughed
at me! With one kick, he knocked me halfway across the entire ring, and
my whole body ached with the impact. I skidded on the canvas, and at
first didn't even have the energy to get up. But as I heard 'Thunder'
raise his arms up and gather more cheers from the crowd, that same level
of instant 'understanding' surged through my muscles, and I stood again.
I hope whatever my body is learning...it's learning it fast. I don't
think I can take another hit like that. I saw Thunder turn to look at
me, snarling at the fact that I was standing, and beckoned me to come
for more of a beating.

However...my feet didn't move. He beckoned again, "C'mon ya little
faggot! You want more!" He shouted, but my feet didn't move! Instead,
all of my muscles relaxed, and I stood perfectly still. I got worried,
wondering if my mimic ability had somehow turned itself off or
something. I mean...there were a lot of minds to read in here. What if
the confusion causes everything to shut down, or cut in and cut out
before I have a chance to try to control it? I didn't know if my body
was waiting for me or I was waiting for it...but if I didn't move
soon, Thunder was gonna kill me where I stand! He began to get closer,
and I felt myself start to shake inside, terrified. Without my body
doing all the work, I wasn't going to be much of a challenge for
ANYBODY! MOVE, DAMN YOU!!! MOVE!!!

But my body remained still, and the closer my opponent, soon to be
executioner, got to me...the more relaxed I got. This is wrong! This is
backwards! What the hell is it that I'm supposed to be doing here?
Thunder was now close enough to breath down on me from above. His breath
smelling of stale old bar pretzels and cheap ice brewed beer. My mind
was scared shitless, but my body was so loose that I felt as though the
wind could pass through it. Then....he swung at me. That giant
Christmas Ham of a fist came right at me and landed right at the
top of my chest, just below my collarbone. I had expected to feel the
pain in mid air as I soared backwards into the audience....but, just as
before, my feet didn't not move. Instead, my body just
sorta....folded. It loosely absorbed the power of his blow,
almost feeling as though my muscles were twisting themselves up around
his fist. And then I felt the energy he directed at me, explode right
back at him as my chest puffed itself outward and pushed his hand off of
me. My body went back to it's relaxed state, and I felt no pain
whatsoever.

We both paused for a quick moment, wondering how I was still standing.
But he was swift to snap out of it and start swinging again. I hardly
felt my muscles tense up at all the entire time. My physical form became
as wiry and malleable as warm butter, moving in and out of his attacks
easily without breaking a sweat. And whenever a punch DID land somewhere
on my body, I was so loose that it was like he was swinging at a silk
curtain. My motions would allow his punches to roll off of me or they'd
absorb the blow before it had the opportunity to have any kind of real
impact on me. No matter HOW much power he put behind it, it was all in
vain. I think I'm beginning to like this!

My mind and abilities mellowed themselves out, even more efficently than
they had before. Once my body found out how to counter and block the
attacks, once it created a defense to protect itself...it began creating
ways to fight back all by itself! The big oaf was strong, but he was
slow in comparison to what I could do. Extremely so. It felt like my
awareness had somehow picked up the pace, my reflexes tripled, and it
was as if he was moving in slow motion, allowing me to strike two or
three times before he even got his arm fully extended to hit me. His
skin was still as hard as rock, but all of his most vulnerable spots
became an open book to me. The eyes, the mouth, the center of his
throat, the ears...all soft spots. No matter what kind of weights he was
lifting, those targets were exploitable for ANYONE to take advantage of.
The fight continued, and I persistently started to wear him down,
striking just the right spots, causing him pain and making his defenses
break down little by little as fatigue began to set in. He fought with
more fury than before, and even more targets became available to
me. He'd kick forward at me, and my leg would shoot out underneath his
to kick him in the soft spot behind the knee. His punches would miss me
by inches, and I'd strike him in the wrist, or the elbow, or the
shoulder. Every joint was a weapon to me, and I could tell that he
wasn't going to last much longer. Then....without warning, I
instinctively caught one of his fists with both arms, and spun around to
pin it behind him. I suddenly felt my muscles tense and lift up
abruptly...brutally breaking the arm in three places! Oh God! I did NOT
mean to do that! You cannot imagine what a sickening feeling it
is...breaking someone's arm with your bare hands. You actually feel the
snap as the vibration is sent through your fingertips. You hear the
scream of the other person, their brains trying to calculate the amount
of damage that has just been done to them. You feel the arm go loose in
your hands, and the muscles quiver and spasm as you look down to see the
limb bent in the most unnatural way. It's a disgusting sensation.

Thunder fell forward, tears running out of his eyes as he attempted to
painfully move his broken arm into a position where he could at least
hold it in agony. A bone splinter was poking out through his skin,
squirting blood and turning the canvas purple beneath him. "OMIGOD! I'm
SORRY!" I shouted. "I didn't mean...."

"And the winner is....'Renegade'!!!" The announcer pulled me back away
from him to raise my arm in victory, but I couldn't help but feel bad. I
didn't want to break his arm. It just happened all by itself. By the
time I was even aware of what I was doing, it was already in action.
Standing there in the ring, looking out at a bloodthirsty audience, I
noticed a small light in one of the balconies. A lighter. Soren lit up a
cigar and looked back down at me, his gremlin like smile even wider than
before, and he gave me yet another nod. Standing up to give me applause
along with all of the people sitting around him. At that point, I KNEW
he had set me up! He either wanted me to fail...or he was testing to see
just how good I really was. Our eyes met from across the entire arena,
and he turned to retreat back into one of the dark corners behind him.

"Good job, kid." The ref told me, and he let me come down from the ring.
Thunder left on his own two feet, but nursing a freshly broken arm and
looking a lot worse for wear than I did. I stepped down to find Gyro and
Dion again so I could see how much money I had earned and how much
longer I had to fight. But walking around the back of the ring, I was
approached by five men wearing all black. Even their contacts were
completely black, making their eyes look almost nonexistant. They were
subtle in their approach, but determined to 'intercept' me.

The one in the middle of the other four, an Asian boy about 18 years old
with medium length jet black hair, spoke first. "An impressive match."
His face had a stoic, emotionless look on it, and the other four were
even more stone faced in their silence.

"Yeah...thanks." I said, not knowing what to make of them.

"Our promoter, Soren, would like you to join him in the lounge. He would
very much like to speak to you about your aparent...talents
here." He replied.

I paused for a second, looking them over. "I'm sorry. But I have to meet
up with my friends. Maybe some other time..." I started to walk past
them, but the one in the middle put his arm up to stop me, his refusal
to let me pass making me even more apprehensive.

"I assure you...it will take only a few moments of your
time....'Renegade'." He said, sternly. He looked me directly in
the eye, reading my facial expressions. I could feel his 'colleagues'
tension increase drastically. Their emotions hardened somehow, as though
they were...ready. The Asian boy in the middle, however, was
unaffected. There was no tension at all.

"I take it this is more of a 'mandatory' invitation?" I asked.

"It is....his request." The man said, and gracefully stepped
aside to show me the way.

"A couple minutes can't hurt, huh?" I followed his lead, and the others
began to relax a bit more as we walked through a maze of tunnels to get
to the lounge area. It was more like a basement that had been jazzed up
into something much
more than it was meant for. But it was elegant in it's appearance. It
gave you a feeling of importance to even be allowed inside. There were
lights that danced around the blacklit walls, drinks of every color and
flavor being served in exoctic glasses that were made more for design
than function, and a gathering of men and women that defined the very
nature of beauty. Looking more like ACTORS hired to play the part of
normal people, rather than actual people themselves. The ambience was
completed with this mellow groove cyber-lounge music that was pumped
comfortably through the room itself. It was a harsh contrast from the
outrageous mania of the crowd outside. The moment I entered the room, I
was presented with a cocktail and guided to the giant sofa in the back.
A sofa where this 'Soren' character was sitting, surounded by a group of
supermodel girls from ages 15 to 25. From the confidence he exuded in
the center of that couch....this was obviously his party.

"Renegade...we meet again." He said with a grin.

"I don't think I had much of a choice." I answered. That comment only
made him smile even more.

"This is my right hand man, Natpea. I'm sure that he had no intentions
of being rude. He was just being...efficent."

I looked over and saw that this nocturnally dressed Asian boy,'Natpea',
hadn't taken his eyes off of me since he had met me at the ring side.
The funny thing was, that even though I was trying to read some kind of
emotion from him, all sense of tension was absent from his presence. It
was as if he had this unshakable sense of confidence that he could
effortlessly beat me to the floor if he had to, and he had no conflicts
about it whatsoever. But the other goons with him, they were different.
I could sense their stress, their clenched fists, wondering if they
would be ready in case anything were to happen. My mind was already
telling me to strike out at them first if anything went wrong.

"You had something you wanted to talk to me about, Soren?" I asked,
trying to cut this short before I got myself into trouble.

"Straight to the point. I like that." He took another puff of of his
cigar and then set it down on the edge of an ashtray on the table in
front of him. "I have been promoting some of the biggest fighters here
in this arena and various others for many many years now, Renegade.
Um...do you have a name for me to call you?"

"It's.....it's Justin."

"Yes, Justin. Got it. Anyway, Justin, out of all of the fighters
I've been through and the mysterious abilities that they possess...I
must admit that I have never once come accross a level of ability that
is as potent as yours is. It's unpredictable, exact, strategic,
beautiful in form and style...I've never seen anything like it." He took
a sip of his drink, "Not only that, but you seem to have a deceptive
quality about you that I'm sure could bring in the big bucks as well as
a plethora of new business to this arena in particular."

"I'm not...I'm not sure I understand."

"I want you to fight for me, Justin." He said. "Here at first,
until you make a name for yourself. It won't take long, a few months,
maybe. A few WEEKS if you keep fighting like you did tonight. But
eventually we can venture out to arenas all over the country. You can
compete with the best in the business...and get very rich doing it."

"I don't think so..." But Soren made sure to finish his 'pitch' before I
said anything more.

"I want you to look over there against that far wall, Justin. Do you see
the young man standing there surrounded by the young boy models? That is
Darkwolf, he's one of the finest fighters in this arena. He started off
a lot like you did. Not too far into his crossover, a bit lost as to
what to do with the next hundred years of his life. He entered his first
fight to get money for a shabby hotel room so he could spend one night
with a young prostitute that he had mistakenly fallen for. It was the
limit of his expectations at that time." I saw him against the wall. He
was maybe 17 years old, or at least that's how old he was when he
crossed over. Short brown hair, sweet smile that he seemed to flash
consistently as he sipped a cocktail and his admirers swarmed around
him, trying to just be close enough to touch him, to talk to him. He was
an inch or so shorter than me, but his arms and legs were built like a
fighter's limbs, slim but firm. "But when I saw him fight that night, I
noticed a spark. This young man could do so much more. So I
called him down, made him an offer, and now look. He's ranked number one
in 12 different arenas all over the country. He has more money than he
knows what to do with. And when he goes home tonight, he can take any
one of those boy models with him, all he has to do is choose one.
Or...maybe he'll choose two. He has before. He likes them young.
Believe me when I say his smile is quite genuine." Soren stood up and
walked over to put a hand on my shoulder. "I see that same spark in you,
Justin. Shining even brighter than his. I can take you so far over the
top that even the fighters at the IceZone arena will tremble when they
here your name."

"Listen..I really have to go. My friends are waiting.." Soren kept
circling me, turning me to look at this and that, pushing me with all
the glitter and gold he could offer me. At the same time, he kept a firm
hold on my shoulder, to keep me from backing away or trying to leave. I
needed to get out of here. I'm not looking to make a career out of
breaking arms and beating up 11 year olds.

"Money, Justin. All the money your pockets can hold and beyond. Cars, a
house, fame, sex...you get dirty for a few hours a night, and in return
you get to live like a movie star for the next hundred years! PICTURE it
with me....see the possibilities." But I wasn't buying what he was
selling, and gently pulled myself out of his grasp.

"Thanks....but no thanks." I felt that tension rise up in his guards
again, the air became thick with their emotions. Natpea...still the only
calm one among them. "I gotta go." I turned to leave and Natpea abruptly
stood in my way, his blackened eyes staring a hole through me as he
waited for the order. ANY order.

But I looked back at Soren, and saw him give a brief silent nod to let
me go. It was only then, that Natpea and his henchmen stepped aside. "My
card..." He said, and Soren handed me a small round disc with his number
and contact info etched into it. "I certainly hope you will
reconsider."

Looking around me, I was in no position to challenge anyone. So I left
it at, "Yeah...maybe." It was evidently better than saying no.

"Maybe, indeed." Soren grinned as he took another sip of his drink. "I'm
sure we'll be in touch again soon...Renegade." It was the last
words I heard as I walked calmly, but quickly, out of that lounge.
Afraid that if I looked back, he'd change his mind about being so
polite.